


Captive

by straight_as_ramen



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anesthesia, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Blood and Injury, Blood and Torture, Body Shots, Burns, Dark, Drugs, Eventual Happy Ending, Experimentation, Fainting, Gen, Government Experimentation, Heavy Angst, Human Experimentation, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Panic Attacks, Psychological Horror, Psychological Torture, References to Drugs, Taking Blood, Temporary Character Death, They all need hugs, Torture, Vomiting, forced coma, there will be fluff soon I swear-
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:49:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25410421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/straight_as_ramen/pseuds/straight_as_ramen
Summary: The sides awake in separate rooms, each with no recollection of how they got there or why.Where is Thomas?(check the tags before reading - this may get very dark-)
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil & Creativity | Roman & Logic | Logan & Morality | Patton & Thomas Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders & Everyone
Comments: 88
Kudos: 195





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm *definitely* not starting another fic even though I already have multiple that I'm working on.... not at all... hehe...
> 
> Once again, please check the tags before reading! I really don't want to trigger anyone. There will be trigger warnings at the start of each chapter. 
> 
> That said, this chapter has mentions of Panic attacks, kidnapping, Injury, being unconscious, being restrained/tied down (Not nsfw), vomiting, and self injury.

Virgil can’t see. 

The room he finds himself in offers no light; he’s barely able to see the dark outline of his hand as he brings it up to cover his mouth, He can’t hear anything except the frantic gasps for air as he struggles to make sense of his surroundings. Though, he’s pretty certain he wouldn’t hear any other sound if his laboured breathing wasn’t filling the room. The four walls carry an eerie silence that just makes him want to shudder. 

_ ‘What’s happening?’ _

He feels weak and shaky, so much so that when he stands up, he reaches for something to grasp onto. There’s nothing there, and he crashes back down to the floor with an echoing  _ ‘thump’.  _ His head smacks against the hard surface of the floor, and pain rips through his skull, only adding to his confusion. He rubs his eyes and searches the darkness for anything that can give him a clue. If he focuses carefully, he can make out a couple of vague silhouettes somewhere in front of him. Still shaky, he stands slowly, beginning to walk towards them - and that’s when the room brightens.

A gentle fade of light floods into the room, slowly brightening until the room is dimly lit. He takes the opportunity to look around, easily catching sight of the objects around him with a little assistance from the lights. There’s a small bed resting next to one of the walls, a firm-looking mattress and paper-thin blankets covering it. It doesn’t look comfortable, but that’s the least of his worries right now. Opposite the bed is a porcelain sink that looks as though it’s never been used, and Virgil briefly wonders if this room has been set up specifically for him, before he spots a wooden door on the wall beside the sink, and he races towards it, hands flying to the handle. The door is locked, and it stays that way no matter what he tries - banging on it, punching it, screaming and yelling, nothing does any good.

After a minute of him trying to escape, the lights begin to dim again, and his hands grow weak. He lets go of the handle, knees buckling as they send him sliding to the floor. His face hits the cold tiles beneath his feet, and a surge of panic runs through him, barely sparking to life before it’s replaced with a heaviness that he can’t ignore. His eyes snap shut, and within a minute he falls into a terrified sleep, body still once again. 

* * *

This has to be a dream, Patton thinks, as he opens his eyes to a startlingly bright room. He rolls over, arm reaching up to shield his eyes from the assaulting light, before he comes to his senses and realises that he is not, in fact, in his bed. Sitting up offers him no answers - the lack of carpet tells him that he hasn’t simply fallen out of bed, and as his tired eyes scan the room, he realises he isn’t even in his own room to begin with. 

Maybe this is a prank? That’s likely. Remus has decided to play a trick on him again, or Virgil and Logan have gotten tired of his puns, or- 

But something doesn’t feel right. Even a trick set up by the others has a gentle edge to it, a reassuring feeling in the air letting him know that whatever is about to happen, it won’t be dangerous. This time, however, that’s missing. The air feels harsh and nerve-wracking, and the bright lights certainly aren’t making the room feel any less unwelcoming. 

Patton focuses on what he can see. There’s a bed behind him, and it looks comfier than nothing, so he lifts himself up and climbs onto it, picking up the soft blanket and wrapping it loosely around his shoulders. Opposite him is a sink, and one of the taps has a steady drip that echoes around the room. He could easily get up and fix it, but if he's honest, he finds it comforting. It’s like a tiny hint of imperfection in this otherwise immaculate room, and Patton relishes it. 

A tall, wooden door catches his eye, practically begging to be opened. With the blanket still around his shoulders, he stands up, making his way over to it. Upon trying to open the door, Patton discovers it’s locked. Hmm. He guesses that means he has to wait, then. 

So, Patton settles himself back onto the bed, humming softly to himself and staring intently at the door. 

_ ‘The others will come soon.’  _

* * *

Logan’s tired. He doesn’t recall falling asleep, but it must have happened, because he has that kind of mind-fog that he only gets when waking up after a long nap. But he isn’t in his bed. He isn’t at his desk, or even curled up on the couch with a blanket laid over him. As far as he can recall, he doesn’t seem to be anywhere familiar. He’s never seen this room before, though it certainly doesn’t look like a comforting sight. He could easily compare it to a cell - only basic things in the room, like a bed, and a sink, because it would be illegal to deprive someone of things like water or somewhere to rest. Then again, nothing about this situation seems legal. Logan can’t remember where he is, or how he got there, and though there’s no one in sight to confirm his suspicions, he’s fairly certain that he didn’t consent to being taken here. 

But until he has more information, he can’t accuse anyone of anything. He isn’t sure how to go about it anyway; the only exit to the room is a clearly locked door to the left of him. He’s certain that someone knows he’s in here, however, thanks to the surveillance camera in the corner of the room. He gives it a glare, and though it doesn’t do anything to aid his situation physically, he allows himself to be comforted by the action. 

Suddenly, there’s a loud dripping sound, and Logan turns to see a strange substance leaking from the ceiling, only a while away from the surveillance camera. Curiosity easily gets the better of him, and he walks, slowly and steadily, over to the direction of the liquid. Cautiously, he sticks his hand out, waiting to catch a drop of the liquid - and as soon as he does, his hand seizes up with an agonising, almost unbearable pain. He pulls the hand away from the offending substance, holding it close to his chest as he hisses in pain. Then his instincts kick in, and he inspects his hand - the affected skin is quickly beginning to turn red, blistering and peeling as though it’s been burnt. He looks back up to the ceiling, beyond confused, and stares at it for a few long moments. 

Realising he probably won’t be able to help himself by staring at the ceiling, Logan leads himself over to the sink. He turns on the faucet and hesitantly dips one of his fingers under the liquid. It’s water, luckily, so he holds his hand under it, relieved when the pain in his hand begins to subside. That’s all he can do, for now. If he’s lucky, then whoever is behind the camera will send him some form of help to adequately treat the wound. 

But then again, since they have him trapped in this room to begin with, he doubts he’ll be that fortunate. 

* * *

Remus is restrained. 

Tight fabric binds his wrists and ankles to the bed, trapping him in place. As soon as he notices this he leans forward, trying to bite his way out of them, but the material is strong, and all he gets is a couple of loose cotton strands in his mouth. He spits them out viciously, watching them fly across the room. His eyes catch onto the security camera peering down at him from the corner of the room, and he scoffs. 

“What the fuck?” he shouts, unsure whether he wants a response or just wants whoever is watching to know that he isn’t happy about the situation. He doesn’t get a reply - the room stays so silent he could hear a pin drop. He looks around, taking note of how the door is locked. Why lock it, when he’s already trapped on this oh-so-comfy bed to begin with? 

There’s nothing he can do to escape, so Remus does the only thing he can think of. He lashes out. He thrashes around in the bed until his limbs ache and the restraints have rubbed his skin raw. He screams and threatens the empty air until he’s nauseous, and then leans over the edge of the bed and throws up all over the floor. Longingly, he looks over at the sink just a few steps away from the bed, aching to drink from the faucet and soothe his burning throat. No one comes to free him from the restraints - they probably don’t want anything to do with him after the show he’s been putting on. He’s not sure why he expected anything different. 

Remus does the only thing left; he waits. He stares at the camera, mentally pleading for the people behind it to take pity on him and free him. When his eyes grow heavy, he lets himself sleep. Hopefully, when he wakes up, things will be different. 

* * *

It’s torturous, Roman decides, waiting around like this. 

The room is bare, only a few basic items inside. He drinks enough water to last a lifetime, tries to sleep in the uncomfortable bed, yet still nothing changes. He waits in the painful silence of the room, mind scrambling to figure out where he is and what’s going on. He can’t come up with anything that makes sense - even Virgil’s pranks don’t go this far. He’s got a suspicion, a horrible one that he really doesn’t want to be true, but until something else happens, he can’t confirm that it’s true. All he has is an endless supply of water, a rough blanket, and his imagination to keep him company. Though he does have a sizable imagination, even that can get a little tiring from time to time. 

He can’t conjure anything, at least not physically. Of course, he can easily imagine an object in front of him; a notepad, a pen, a paintbrush… but when he opens his eyes, he’s in the same bleak room, with the same empty objects around him. It doesn’t make sense - even in Thomas’ living room, he’s still able to summon objects. Though, if he’s honest, this place is unlike anywhere he’s been before. It feels real, like the world that Thomas lives in, yet he can interact with the objects around him. That’s certainly… new.

For the fourth time since he woke up, Roman wanders over to the door. He tries the handle once again, frowning when it remains locked, the same way it has each time he’s tried it. Anger seeps through him, and he balls his hand into a fist, reaching up and punching the door with all his strength. It barely moves, and a shooting pain rises in his knuckles, but he isn’t giving up yet. He uses his other hand, pounding the door with determined force. 

“You can’t trap me in here!” he shouts, unsure who he’s talking to as he continues to strike the door. The surface of it begins to crack and he dares to feel hopeful - until the lights in the room start to dim, and an odd feeling of fatigue overtakes him. Before he registers what’s happening, he falls to the floor in an undignified ball, curled up near the now damaged door. His eyelids begin to close, and despite his best efforts, he can’t seem to fight their heaviness. He can’t even drag himself to the bed - he falls unconscious right there on the floor, the cold tiles his only company. 

* * *

There’s probably not many situations less disconcerting than this one. 

Janus sits steadily on the edge of the bed, staring intently at the wall opposite him. He counts to ten, over and over again, but nothing changes. The door remains locked. The room remains silent. The security camera is stationary in the top corner of the room, with it’s tiny red light blinking back at him. Briefly, he wonders who is behind it. Someone is watching; he can feel their eyes on him as he closes his eyes, counts to ten, and opens them, glancing around the room to check if anything has changed. He can’t decide whether he wants it to or not - sure, this situation is both boring and uncomfortable, but what’s the alternative? He isn’t sure he  _ wants  _ to know what’s behind the door. 

With no other option, he remains calm, continuing his habit of counting and checking the room. It’s a constant, reassuring action - even in the strangest of circumstances like these, he has something that he can turn to. 

He knows the door is going to open eventually. After all, everyone has a purpose, and he doubts anyone wants to trap him in a near empty room just to watch him slowly go insane. Then again…

No. He’ll be out soon. Until then, the only thing he can do is wait, and he’s going to do it in a composed manner. He glances over to the sink, eyeing the water droplets with curiosity, but he makes himself stay on the bed, counting over and over. He doesn’t have another option. 

What are the others doing right now? Do they know he’s in here, or are they going about their usual daily activities without a clue? How is Thomas doing? Janus can’t feel any kind of connection to him whatsoever, and it’s nerve-wracking to say the least. Even before Thomas knew who he was, Janus had a connection to him - he was aware of whatever Thomas was aware of. Yet now, he has no idea if Thomas is even  _ alive.  _

His head feels different too, somewhat clouded. He’s quite certain he isn’t forgetting anything, but something doesn’t seem right. Almost as though he isn’t where he’s supposed to be. The thought seems crazy - he’s either in Thomas’ mind or the real world. There isn’t anywhere else he could be. 

So what has changed? What’s missing? 

_ ‘Where’s Thomas?’ _

* * *

First, footsteps ring out along the hall, echoing into all six rooms.

Next, there’s some distant talking - the voices are incomprehensible, but they’re there nonetheless. 

And then, the door creaks open. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter got more comments and kudos than I thought it would, so thanks to everyone who left those :)
> 
> Trigger warnings - Blood, injury, brief mentions of throwing up, fainting, brief mentions of murder near the end, Remus being Remus

Logan is taken first. 

He’s on his feet the second the door opens, wounded hand held behind his back protectively. He stares in the direction of the door, studying the people who have let themselves in. At the very front, there’s a middle-aged man, dark haired with a simple, trimmed beard. He wears a uniform of sorts, because the two people standing beside him have similar outfits. His face is twisted into a smile, but Logan doesn’t believe it. These people don’t look familiar, and he’s getting a strong suspicion about the situation that he doesn’t like. 

“Who are you?” he calls out, not moving a step closer or further away. 

With the odd smile still on his face, the man responds, “I’m sure you have questions.” which is a stupid thing to say, because Logan has just proven that he has questions by asking one. “If you follow me, we’ll be able to answer some of them.” 

“Why should I follow you?” Logan questions suspiciously. 

The man gives him a long look, before replying, “Because you don’t want to find out what will happen if you don’t.” Casually, he snaps his fingers, and the other two people are at Logan’s sides in an instant. They grab one of his arms each, beginning to lead him towards the door. 

“I can walk by myself.” Logan protests, but his words fall on deaf ears; the people don’t even loosen their grip. The man leads them out of the room, along a vast, dark corridor. Logan catches sight of several doors along the way, and wonders about the other sides. Are they behind the doors? Are they the cause of this spectacle to begin with? 

He doesn’t get a chance to theorise an answer for his questions, because a door is thrown open and he’s abruptly shoved inside. The door slams shut behind him, and he hears the telltale sound of a lock being turned, signalling that he’s once again trapped in a room. He turns around, resisting the urge to groan, and spots another person. He’s similar to the man who led Logan here, but with his own defining features that Logan doesn’t care to think about. He’s sitting behind a long, bleak desk, a clipboard and pen poised at the ready as though he’s about to see something worth taking notes on. Logan doesn’t plan on giving him anything interesting to write, so he stands still next to the door, making direct eye contact with the man. This seems to make him a little uneasy. 

“Hello,” the man says after a moment. “Do you want to sit down?” He gestures towards a metal chair opposite him. Logan eyes it for a moment, before shaking his head - staying stood up means being ready to escape, should the opportunity present itself. He needs to be ready. 

The man clears his throat. “Well, umm… can you tell me your name?” 

“Yes, but I don't want to.” Logan replies honestly. The man seems confused, but Logan doesn’t care. 

“I mean you no harm.” He attempts to reassure. “I just want to know what to call you.” 

Logan debates for a few moments, before - hesitantly - he nods. “My name is Logan.” 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Logan.” The man gives him a bright smile, which he doesn’t return. There’s an awkward beat of silence before the man clears his throat. “So, I’m sure you’re wondering why we’ve bought you and your… brothers… here.”

Logan gives him a perplexed look. “I don’t have any brothers. Well, I suppose Thomas does.”

“So you’re not related then?” Instantly the man picks up his clipboard and begins to jot down some notes. Logan narrows his eyes - there’s a time and a place for taking notes, and this probably isn’t it - and stays quiet. The man seems to take this as a ‘no’. 

“Highly surprising, considering that there are 7 of you with identical bodies.” the man raises an eyebrow, waiting expectantly for Logan to answer. He doesn’t.

“Why is it that all of you look the same, yet there are only records of one of you existing?” 

“I’m assuming you mean that you have records of Thomas Sanders?” Logan asks. The man nods. “We are all Thomas.”

“Like clones?” 

“Not like clones. It’s-” Logan runs a hand over his face, unsure where to start. “It’s very difficult to explain.” 

“Take your time.” The man assures. 

“We are all the different parts of Thomas. Each of us represents a different part of his personality.” Logan pauses, noticing how confused the man looks. “Do you need me to start over?” 

“No, it’s alright.” He shakes his head. “Let’s move onto something else. Do you know the names of the others?” 

“I do.” Logan nods. There’s another pause. 

“Can you… tell me them?” 

“I cannot. They will tell you their names if they wish for you to know.” 

With a sigh, the man stands up. “Well, is there anything else?” 

“Actually…” Logan holds out his injured hand, looking at it carefully. The pain has started to subside, and he’s been able to block it from his mind, but he still wants to treat it, if he can. 

“I’ll send someone in to sort that, and then they’ll take you back to your room.” it’s more of an instruction than a suggestion, and the man doesn’t give him a chance to protest before leaving. Logan stays in his chair, looking around the room sceptically. There’s another surveillance camera in the corner of the room, and Logan doesn’t dare move with it watching him. He has to admit he’s a little afraid - anyone would be in this situation. 

A few minutes later, the door opens, and in comes another person, wearing a slightly different outfit to those he’s seen already. They don’t say anything, instead setting a tray on the table. Hesitantly, Logan holds out his hand, watching silently as the person applies some kind of ointment and wraps it in a bandage. The process is interesting, but Logan is unnerved by the silence in the room and can’t focus as much as he’d like to. When they finish bandaging his hand, they open the door once again and silently gesture for Logan to follow them. 

Outside, the two guards from before grab him again. He doesn’t bother protesting this time - it probably won’t do any good - and lets himself be led into another room. 

The door slams behind him, and the lights turn on, slowly brightening. Logan looks around, catching sight of six identical beds spread around the room. They’re almost identical to the ones in his previous room, meaning they’ll probably be just as uncomfortable as the other one. In one corner of the room, there’s a second door, and Logan dares to feel hopeful as he walks towards it and reaches to turn the handle. It opens easily, and he discovers a small, cramped bathroom, which he supposes is better than nothing. He drinks some water from the sink and washes his face, an action that is very difficult with one hand. Then he chooses one of the beds at random, sits on top of it, and waits. 

In just half an hour, the door is opened again, and Roman is roughly shoved inside. He’s cursing at the guards, but they take no notice, instead slamming the door shut and locking it once more. He swears loudly - but when he turns around and sees Logan, his eyes brighten. 

“Logan!” he shouts, running over to the bed Logan is sitting on. “Finally, someone I recognise.” 

“Are you alright?” Logan asks straight away, checking Roman for injuries. He has no idea what kind of cell Roman was in, or any kind of dangers he could have faced. 

“I’m fine.” Roman nods quickly, and to his credit he does look physically unharmed. “Well, a little confused. And offended.” 

“I can’t offer you any answers. I have no clue why we’re here.” Logan sighs. He rests his hands in his lap, and instantly Roman’s eyes are on the bandage covering Logan’s right hand. 

“What happened to your hand?” he demands to know, carefully lifting it up and inspecting it. 

“A strange substance came from the ceiling of the room I was in. I thought it was water and touched it.” Logan explains. “It wasn’t water.” 

“Did it hurt?” Roman asks, still gently prodding it. 

Logan nods. “A little. It’s alright now though.” Roman lets go of Logan’s hand, giving him a nervous look. 

“These people are from the government.” he whispers. Logan’s eyes widen. 

“That’s why they asked me if we were clones of Thomas.” 

“They asked me as well. I tried to tell them no, but they didn’t listen. They’re going to want some kind of proof.” 

“How can they even interact with us?” Logan questions. “I thought only Thomas could see us.”

Roman doesn’t reply for a while. He turns around and sits on the bed closest to Logan, and finally mutters. “Maybe this isn’t real. One of the others is playing a trick.” 

“Not everything is imaginary, Roman.” Logan snaps. 

Roman turns to glare at him. “And you’re telling me you  _ want  _ this to be reality?”

Logan falls silent at that. Roman doesn’t have anything else to say, and they sit in silence for a while. It’s a lot easier with two people; almost as though the other’s presence is comforting, despite the fact that they spend most of their time together bickering. 

“I wonder who’s next.” Roman murmurs eventually. 

“I believe all of us will be put in here. After all, there are 6 beds.” Logan hums. 

Roman looks uncertain. “Where’s Thomas?” 

Logan can’t give him an answer. 

* * *

“I’m going to ask you again. What is your name?” Asks the man. Janus stares at him, a disinterested depression on his face. 

“I’m not too sure.” he responds again. “Maybe the chemicals you used to bring me here against my will might have affected my memory a little.” he adds sarcastically, a smirk forming on his face. He remembers his name, and he knows that the man knows this, but it’s hilarious to see how much he can piss him off. Besides, why should he answer any questions? It’s not as though he wants to be here talking to this stranger - quite the opposite, actually. 

“Do you know any of the others who look the same as you?” 

“There are others here?” Janus deflects. “Wow, hats off to you. You must be an advanced kidnapper.” he spits the last two words out a little more aggressively. The man breaths a loud, frustrated sigh, and Janus smirks even more. They’ve barely been in this room 10 minutes, and already he knows exactly how to push the man’s buttons. 

“Did you enjoy your time in your room?” the man asks eventually, mirroring Janus’ smirk. 

“Oh, of course. I absolutely adore being locked in an empty room away from other people.” 

“Well then, you’d better answer my questions, unless you want to go back.” 

Janus shrugs. “Sure.” he sits up a little, as if ready to answer. 

The man tries again. “What’s your name?” 

Janus gives him a smug smirk. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

* * *

When Janus stumbles into the room, aided by the oh-so-gentle shoves of the guards, Roman and Logan spring to their feet. 

“Janus.” Logan greets.

Janus looks at the two, and then looks around the room.  “Where are the others?” 

“You’re the third to arrive. We’re still waiting for everyone else.” Logan explains, sitting back down on his bed. Janus frowns, choosing one of the beds with little difficulty - they’re all exactly the same. 

“What did they ask?” Roman calls. 

“My name. If I know the rest of you. A stupid question, considering that we all came from the same house and we- most of us have exactly the same face.” He looks at the floor after saying the last sentence. Roman barely notices. 

“All of the questioning is going to be stressful for Patton and Virgil.” Logan muses. Janus nods in agreement, before a smirk crosses his face again. 

“Remus is going to give them hell.” 

* * *

When someone eventually enters Remus’ cell, he’s awake and full of energy. A strange man stands a little far from the bed, sneering at the mess of vomit on the floor. Remus grins at him. 

“Come any closer and I’ll do it again.” he threatens. The man’s lip curls in disgust, before he shakes his head, turning back to Remus. 

“Last time we saw you, we had to restrain you. You put up quite a fight.” 

“Of course I did. No one sits back and lets themselves get abducted.” 

“Well..” The man pauses. “If we freed you from the restraints, would you be willing to answer some questions?” 

“Sure.” Remus shrugs. He watches as one of the guards carefully steps forward, beginning to untie the restraints. He stays still until all of his limbs are free from the restricting fabric, feigning a calm, almost sleepy look. 

As soon as the last restraint has been cast aside, he gets up and bolts. 

* * *

By the time the guards toss Remus into the room, he’s gasping for breath, covered in sweat, and blood is dripping down his face. He’s laughing, so loud the others were able to hear him coming from the corridor and are now standing on their feet. Logan and Roman look a little concerned, but Janus just watches with an expectant smile as Remus is shoved into the room and hits the floor, leaving a few drops of blood on the tiles. He looks up, catching sight of the others, and grins. 

“Hi,” he gasps out. 

“Remus, you’re bleeding.” Logan states, frowning. Remus blinks, confused, and wipes at his face with the back of his hand. He looks down at the smears of blood across the back of his fingers and pauses, before licking at it. 

“What’d they ask you?” Roman questions. Remus shrugs. 

“Didn’t get the chance.” he responds. His words begin to slur a little at the end, and he sways, sinking down until he’s sprawled on the floor, clearly unconscious.

Janus frowns. “Did they give him something weird?” 

“Probably not. He’s likely over exhausted himself from-” Logan pauses. “Whatever he was doing.” 

Warily, Janus walks over and nudges Remus with his foot. The side doesn’t stir. Janus shrugs and walks back over to his bed, sitting down again. 

“Maybe we should put him on one of the beds.” Logan frowns. 

Roman raises an eyebrow. “You can if you want.”

* * *

Patton is ashamed to say he’s a little afraid. 

That’s stupid, isn’t it? He’s supposed to be the dad, the strong and mature one, and yet he can’t stop shaking long enough to even sip from the glass of water that’s been given to him. This isn’t a harmless prank from one of the other sides. It’s real, and Patton doesn’t know what to do. 

“It’s alright, Patton.” The man responds gently. “We mean no harm. I just wanted to ask you those questions.” He pushes a tissue box closer to Patton, who gratefully accepts it. 

“I know. I’m sorry.” Patton sniffles, wiping at his face with a tissue. He sips the water again and forces himself to take deep breaths, the same way he instructs Virgil to do after a particularly bad nightmare. 

“Do you want to see the others now?” He asks when Patton seems to have calmed down. Patton nods, eager to see someone familiar. He’s led to the door, where the two guards are waiting. The man instructs them to be gentle, but they barely make an effort to do so. Patton tries to focus on the prospect of seeing the others as he’s dragged along the corridors, their fingers digging uncomfortably into his arms and bruising his skin. At last they reach a door. One of the guards holds Patton steady as the other unlocks the door, and then he’s quickly pushed forwards and into the room. He lands on the floor, letting out a quiet “ow,” and the door slams shut behind him. 

“Patton!” Roman calls. He and Logan rush over, both at his side in an instant. He sniffles again, turning and burying his face in Logan’s shirt. 

“Did they hurt you? Because if they did then I swear I’ll kill them.” Roman hisses the last part angrily. 

From his bed, Remus speaks up. “Me too.” Roman looks up, and for a moment they share a brief smile, before Remus continues. “I’ll stab straight through their heart, and-”

Patton whimpers, and Logan turns to glare at Remus. “Not now, Remus.” 

With Patton still clinging to him, Logan makes his way back to the bed, lifting Patton up onto it. The two sit together, with Patton facing the wall to calm him down a little and Logan hesitantly hugging him - he hasn’t done this many times before, but if it’ll help Patton feel better then he’s all for it. 

“What happened to your hand?” Patton asks shakily, fingers feeling Logan’s bandage. 

“Nothing important.” Logan replies. “Why don’t you try and sleep for a while?” 

“Okay.” Patton yawns, curling up a little into Logan’s side. Logan doesn’t make an effort to conceal his shock, and from the other side of the room, Janus gives him a knowing smirk. Logan blushes red and spends the next 5 minutes facing the wall.

Virgil arrives not long after, looking a little shaken up. Janus and Roman help him as best as they can - he’s uninjured, thankfully, and eager to get onto his bed and pretend the others aren’t there. He gives Patton a concerned look as he walks past. 

“He’s just sleeping. No need to worry.” Logan assures him. The group fall into silence once again. 

“Thomas isn’t here, is he?” Roman asks after a while. 

“I don’t think so.” Logan responds quietly. 

Remus sighs. “What now?”

“Now we wait.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a little short-
> 
> Trigger warnings - needles, blood, blood being taken, intrusive thoughts about needles, drugged food, characters being drugged

Night comes, or at least, they suppose it does. There’s no clear way to measure the passing of time in a room with no clocks or windows, but when the fatigue begins to spread over the majority of the group, they decide to call it a night. Well, most of them do. 

Virgil can’t sleep. He tosses and turns for what feels like hours. No matter what he tries, his eyes remain wide open, refusing to give him a chance to get some rest. When it gets to the point where he can’t stand to be in the bed anymore, he sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, and looks around at the others. Patton is still on Logan’s bed, and the logical side has fallen asleep, still holding Patton close as he slumps against the wall. Roman is star-fished across his bed, fast asleep and snoring loudly. Opposite him, Remus is burrowed under his blanket - that’s a little questionable, but the tell-tale sound of snoring reassures Virgil that Remus is just sleeping. Janus is…

Janus is awake. As Virgil looks over, he catches sight of Janus’ eyes blinking back at him, and starts. 

“You’re awake.” Virgil acknowledges. 

“Of course not.” Janus rolls over to face the wall. “I’m fast asleep. You’re just imagining things.” 

Virgil rolls his eyes, sarcasm dripping into his voice. “Yeah, because that’s definitely believable.” 

After a moment of silence, Janus sighs, sitting up. He fixes Virgil with a long look, before looking away and muttering, “Do you really expect me to be able to sleep?” he looks up again, making direct eye contact. “Do you feel safe enough to sleep here?” 

“What do you think?” is Virgil’s response. 

“It was a stupid question.” Janus agrees. 

There’s a pause, and Virgil mutters “This place feels off.”

“Really? I would never have guessed.” is Janus’ reply. 

“No, not-” Virgil glares at him - he did that on purpose. “I mean, it doesn’t feel illegal. I feel like we’re the ones who did something illegal…” 

“I get it.” Janus responds surprisingly. “The government didn’t like us for some reason, and their wants overshadow basic laws.” 

“Yeah…” 

“But what can we do about it?” 

“I guess we just have to wait…” 

It’s an unsatisfying answer, but Janus can’t think of anything better. He doubts the others are in any state to trick those stupid guards and break out. 

So he lays still, feigning sleep, until the others start to awaken. Logan is the first to wake up. He untangles himself from Patton’s sleeping form and stands up, pausing for a moment before going to sit on the empty bed. The sudden absence of heat seems to wake Patton up because he sits up, making eye contact with Logan and looking down at the floor almost bashfully. Janus watches them for a while before he gets bored and stretches, rubbing his eyes as though he’s only just woken up, and sits up, leaning against the wall. He isn’t sure he’s fooling anyone, but the others don’t question it. 

“Did you sleep well, Janus?” Logan asks. 

“I did.” Janus lies easily. Logan resumes staring at the wall with nothing else to say. 

The almost peaceful atmosphere of the room is rather suddenly destroyed when the door slams open and the same three people from yesterday enter. He takes a look at the three still sleeping, and sneers. 

“Wake them up.” he instructs Logan. Instantly the side gets up, gently shaking Virgil awake and beginning to say something to him. Whatever he says works, because Virgil is instantly up and on his feet, immediately on guard. Logan moves to wake up Roman. 

Janus supposes he should wake up Remus - no one else is going to want to do it. He gets up and goes over to Remus’ bed, carefully shaking his shoulder. “Remus, wake up.” Instantly the side’s eyes snap open, almost as though he wasn’t asleep to begin with. He glares at Janus, but does at least sit up. 

The man clears his throat. “All of you need to get up and follow me.” 

“Why?” Janus asks. He’s met with a disinterested glare from the man, but he stands his ground. The others watch, not daring to move. 

“You don’t want to find out what’ll happen if you don’t.” the man hisses, narrowing his eyes at Janus. 

Janus hisses back, “Try me.” and that’s all the confirmation the man needs. He snaps his fingers, and the two guards at his sides scramble over to Janus, each grabbing him, and pull him towards the door. With a satisfied smirk, the man turns to address the other sides. 

“Come along, now. I have plenty of guards to go around.” 

Although hesitantly, the sides get up and follow him. As they walk, Patton gives Janus a sympathetic look. 

“Can they let him go?” he asks. “I think they’re hurting him.”

“Oh, he’s fine.” the man turns to give Janus a smug look. “You’re fine, aren’t you,  _ Janus _ ?” he spits the last word out, even more smug that he’s discovered Janus’ name - likely thanks to the security cameras in their room. 

As they reach a metal door, the man suddenly darts forward and opens it, gesturing for everyone to go in. Inside, there’s a table covered with various medical devices that make Virgil shiver. Janus is shoved onto one of six metal chairs, and the guards finally let go of him. Instantly he rubs the area where their hands were - and when Patton looks over, he sees purpled skin. 

“You said they weren’t hurting him!” Patton protests, turning to give the man the most stern glare he can. 

The man shrugs. “It’s only a bruise. I had no idea he was so weak.”

“I’m fine.” Janus hisses, face red with embarrassment. 

“Sit down on the chairs.” The man commands. Everyone does so - Patton sits next to Janus, giving him a concerned look, but the side refuses to look at anyone, still a little embarrassed. 

It’s a little nerve-wracking when a doctor enters the room, wearing a white lab coat. He doesn’t say anything, only gives the other man a nod, and turns to the desk, picking up a needle. After a moment, he walks towards Logan, who backs away slightly, looking at him warily. He catches sight of the needle and frowns, taking it in for a moment. 

“Are you taking my blood?” He asks. 

“I am.” The doctor nods, snatching Logan’s arm. Logan doesn’t pull it away; instead watching with fascination as the needle is inserted into his arm and blood begins to enter the needle. Beside him, Patton shudders, looking away, but Logan hardly notices, busy watching the process. The doctor gives him an odd look, before pulling out the needle and turning back to the desk. He labels the blood with the words “Subject one”. 

When he turns around again, Patton rolls up his sleeve expectantly. The man skips straight past him, going instead to Roman. When the side only fixes him with a glare, the doctor seizes his arm and forces the needle in, ignoring the uncomfortable noise that Roman makes. 

“It’s the same order that we were questioned yesterday.” Logan explains, though he’s not sure if anyone’s listening. He doesn’t get a response. 

Janus is next. He doesn’t bother refusing, instead simply rolling up his sleeve as the doctor stands expectantly in front of him. He looks away, not wanting to see his blood be taken. 

Remus is fascinated. He eagerly watches the needle go into his skin, then gives a crazed laugh. 

“Wouldn’t it be funny if the needle broke and got stuck in my arm?” he asks. He’s met with a tiny squeak of disapproval from Patton, and a sigh from Logan. 

“No, Remus, it wouldn’t be funny. It would be dangerous.”

“Oh, that’s even better!” Remus cackles, his voice getting louder and louder. “It could stay in there, and then you’d have to get a knife to dig it out, and-”

The doctor pulls the needle out of Remus’ arm in one piece, and Remus sighs a long, disinterested sigh, but falls silent again. The doctor moves onto Patton, who’s starting to shake a little. 

“It’s alright, Patton. It doesn’t hurt.” Janus tries. The doctor offers Patton no mercy, instead forcefully grabbing Patton’s arm. Patton yelps as the needle goes in, squeezing his eyes shut and grabbing the hand of Janus. The deceitful side’s eyes go wide, but he doesn’t let go of Patton’s hand, instead giving it a reassuring squeeze. The needle is soon removed and Patton sighs, his breathing shaky. He lets go of Janus’ hand, shooting him a grateful look, and stares straight ahead of him, trying to calm down a little. 

Virgil hisses loudly as soon as the doctor comes near him with the needle. He hides his arms behind his back, glaring at the doctor, who simply raises an eyebrow and snaps his fingers, The guards hold Virgil in place, ignoring his protests. 

“It’s alright, Virge. It’ll be over soon.” Roman tries, unable to hide the obvious concern for the anxious side. Virgil fights against the guards, but they’re too strong and he can’t do anything to get away from the doctor. His blood is taken, just like everyone else’s, and all he can do is glare at the doctor’s back as he turns away to label the blood sample. He sets the tray down on the table, and turns back to the group. 

“Back to your room.” he orders. The guards stand near the door, ready to escort them. 

In the room, Virgil flops face down onto his bed, letting out a loud groan. 

“I don’t understand why they had to take blood samples,” Patton frowns. 

“They’re trying to identify whether we’re clones of Thomas or not.” explains Logan. Remus opens his mouth, and Logan expects him to say something about how exciting that would be, or bring up a disturbing story, but instead he pauses, before muttering, “I miss Thomas.” 

“We all do.” Roman speaks up. “How can I give him ideas if I don’t even know where he is?” 

“I hope he’s safe.” Virgil mutters, still face down into the mattress. 

Less than a second later, the door opens and two people come in, each balancing a tray with bowls of soup. They leave them on the floor and lock the door again. 

“Well,” Patton stands up. “Food is served, I guess.” He grabs a bowl from one of the trays, taking an experimental sip. It must taste fine, because he takes another, and another. 

Janus comes closer and picks up a bowl, eyeing it with suspicion. He stirs it around carefully, frowning. 

“It tastes fine.” Patton speaks up. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong.” he’s practically finished his bowl by now, and doesn’t show any signs of being poisoned, so Janus dares to taste the soup. Then his hunger wins over, and before he knows it, his bowl is empty. The others soon join them, forming a circle and each drinking a bowl of the soup. Even Remus,who usually finds a new and disturbing way to eat his food each time, simply swallows it and puts the bowl back onto the tray, distracted. 

When everyone’s finished, Patton gathers all of the bowls and heads towards the bathroom. 

“You’re seriously going to wash them?” Virgil rolls his eyes. 

“Might as well!” Patton responds cheerfully, heading into the bathroom. After a moment, Logan stands up.

“I’ll help. There isn’t anything else to do.” he decides, following after Patton. 

Janus goes back to sitting on his bed, watching the others with a disinterested yawn. He’s beginning to regret not sleeping all night, even if it wasn’t his fault. 

“I’m going back to sleep.” Virgil decides, climbing back to his bed. He’s fast asleep before he can even pull the covers over himself. Janus reaches a realisation. 

“There was something bad in that soup.” he decides, his words a little slurred. 

“No kidding.” Roman mutters, slumped against the wall as if even climbing onto his bed is too exhausting. Probably is. 

Remus giggles faintly. “Logan and Patton are gonna fall asleep in the bathroom together.” As soon as he finishes the sentence, he’s asleep. 

Janus is scared, he can’t deny it. What have they been given? When will they wake up?  _ Will  _ they wake up? He fights hard against the overwhelming fatigue, but it offers him no mercy, and he feels his eyelids beginning to close. Maybe a couple seconds of rest won’t hurt… 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still exist :P
> 
> Trigger warnings - a lot of mentions of being drugged, swearing, bones being broken, torturing

Some time later, Roman’s eyes flicker open. The fanciful side feels completely weighed down with a heavy fatigue, and he wants to slip back asleep, but a few things stop him. 

Firstly, he has no clue how long he’s been asleep. It could have been 5 minutes, it could have been 5 hours, it could have even been 5 days. This usually wouldn’t bother him, but this whole situation seems to be throwing off his reactions to things, and he finds the idea of more sleep somewhat… unpleasant. Another reason is that he can’t hear a single sound from the others. A paranoid fear traces through his mind; what if the drug was meant to kill them? What happens if he’s awoken by chance, and the others aren’t going to? 

He’s on his feet before his mind can throw any more horrible scenarios at him. As soon as he stands up his vision spins, and he has to grip the edge of the bed he fell asleep against tightly to stop himself from falling back down. When the feeling passes, he moves towards the sleeping form of Virgil, checking his pulse the way he’s seen people do in TV shows. Virgil’s alive; Roman isn’t a professional but he deems Virgil’s pulse as stable. A quick check of all of the others tells him that the drug was probably just meant to make them sleep. Hopefully it doesn’t have any other side effects. 

Roman’s throat is dry, and he carefully makes his way to the bathroom to get some water. As he opens the door, he catches sight of Patton and Logan, passed out against the floor. The dishes they were cleaning are nowhere to be found. That means someone’s been in here while they were all asleep, then. He wishes the thought didn’t scare him as much as it does. 

Steeping past the sleeping sides, Roman turns on the faucet, splashing cold water over his face as an attempt to ease the drowsy edge he has. It does little to help, but at least cools him down a little. He gulps down some of the water and turns around, leaving the other two on the floor as he heads back to sit on his bed. 

Virgil is beginning to stir when Roman comes back into the room. The side lets out a low groan, stretching out on his bed. His eyes blink open, and he looks around sleepily. When he catches sight of Roman looking at him, he gives a tired little wave, pulling himself into an upright position. 

“We were drugged, weren’t we?” he mutters. 

“Think so.” Is Roman’s response. Virgil mutters a colourful collection of curse words, standing up within seconds. He pauses by the side of his bed, swaying dangerously, and Roman would rush over and help him if he wasn’t in danger of doing the same thing himself. 

“Are the others okay?” Virgil manages, sitting back on the bed and gripping the edge of it tightly. 

“They’re fine. I think they’ll wake up soon.” Roman reassures. 

“Good.” Virgil pauses. “This place is so fucked up.” 

“Watch your language.” Patton slurs as he walks in, rubbing his eyes as he struggles to stay awake. The other two look at him with a mix of relief and concern. 

“How do you feel, Padre?” Roman asks carefully. Patton flops onto his bed, snuggling under the blanket.

“Tired,” he murmurs. “But ‘m okay.”

“Shhh…” Janus whispers, rolling over so he’s facing the wall. Roman has to cover his mouth to stop himself from laughing. 

“Where’s Logan?” Patton mutters, sitting up to look at the side’s empty bed. Virgil facepalms. 

“Pat, he was next to you on the floor. Do you not remember?” 

Patton clearly doesn’t remember, because he frowns, and a second later he stands up, untangling himself from the blanket. He sways dangerously on his feet, hand clinging to the bedpost to steady himself.

“Be careful.” Virgil warns, looking at the moral side with concern. Patton waves him off. 

“I’m fine. Anyone want to help me get Logan to one of the beds?” 

“Not really.” Roman mutters, but even so he stands up, following Patton to the bathroom. Logan’s somewhat awake, and thankfully, instead of trying to carry him to one of the beds, Patton shakes his shoulder. 

“Am I on the floor?” Logan asks, blankly looking around as though he can’t seem to make sense of his surroundings. 

“Yep.” Patton responds patiently. “Wanna go sit on a bed instead?” 

“Why am I on the floor?” 

“We got drugged.” Is Roman’s optimistic response. 

“That’s… Not good.” Logan’s eyes close again, and Patton gives a long sigh. 

“Alright, Lo. If you’re gonna go back to sleep, at least get to one of the beds first.” Logan groans, but his eyes open again and he makes an effort to stand up. Roman has to hold onto his shoulder to keep him from falling face-first into the sink, but after only a little bit of struggling, they manage to get him onto one of the beds. He lays there, looking at the ceiling for a long time, and Patton and Roman go back to their beds. Eventually, Logan sits up. 

“Is everyone awake?” he questions. 

“Think so…” Janus mutters. “Remus isn’t awake, but I doubt he slept last night, so…” 

Proving Janus’ point, Remus stays silent, unusually still as he sleeps. Everyone looks at him with uncertainty, and after a few moments of silence, Logan mutters, “He is alive, right?” 

Roman rolls his eyes. “Yes, he’s alive. I checked his pulse.” 

“He’s never been so still…” Patton observes. “It doesn’t seem like him.”

“Would you be acting like yourself if you got drugged and thrown into a random room with no explanation?” 

Patton falls silent - this is usually the part where he’d say something optimistic or funny to get a smile on everyone’s faces, but no matter how hard he tries he can’t think of anything good about this situation. He feels guilty for not knowing what to do to help…

“We should-” Logan yawns, bringing a hand up to cover his face. “Get some more rest. It’ll help the effects of the drug to wear off quicker.” 

No one protests at that. Even Virgil manages to fall asleep again, securely burrowed under his blanket. He dares to hope that when they next wake up, things will be better. 

* * *

They aren’t. 

Virgil is jolted awake the seconds the door slams open. He throws his blanket off, pulling himself into a prepared sitting position. That same man is there, of course, with his two guards attempting to make him seem more intimidated. He spends a moment glancing around at the others, who are in various stages of waking up, before he sets his eyes on Virgil. A sick grin appears on his face. 

“Well, you look very prepared.” he remarks. “I think we’ll have you first.” 

Virgil hisses at him, eyes narrowing. The man raises an amused eyebrow. 

“Come on now.” he taunts. “You’ll regret it if you don’t.” As he says the last words, he looks across the room, and Virgil follows his gaze, leading to the others. A sour feeling runs through him, and he stands up on shaky legs. 

“Don’t go!” Patton begs, reaching out to Virgil, who sighs. 

“I have to, Pat.” he replies. “You know what’ll happen if I don’t.” Patton looks so terrified that it’s unnerving, and Virgil feels an odd urge to reassure him - almost as though their roles have been reversed. “Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll be back soon.” 

“Come on.” The man calls impatiently. Virgil shoots him a glare, but follows reluctantly. The door slams behind him, offering a gust of wind that makes him shudder. He dreads whatever’s going to happen next. 

Virgil is led into the same room he was in on the first day, back when they questioned who he was and why he looked the same as the others. They sit him down on the same chair, and the same man sits in front of him, clipboard and pen at the ready. This time, Virgil isn’t giving up any answers. 

“So, the soup had quite an effect on you.” The man starts. Virgil scowls at him. 

“Why did you drug the soup?” he hisses in response. “What was the point?” 

“Ah, but it’s not you who’s asking the questions here, Virgil.” as if emphasising his point, the man taps his clipboard. “It’s me.” 

Virgil sits up, snarling at him. “I don’t have to answer any of your fucking questions.” 

The man takes on an almost pitying look. “I was afraid that this would be the case.” He snaps his fingers like an owner calling a dog, and his guards practically appear at his sides. They pin Virgil down to the chair, his hand sticking out at an odd angle. The man seizes it. 

“You see, I’m tired of my questions being unanswered. I’m sure you can sympathise.” he laughs, in a twisted way that makes Virgil feel sick. “So now, for each question you avoid, or don’t answer, one of your fingers will be broken.” 

Virgil tries to jerk his hand away, but the guards have it pinned in place. He glares at the man, hatred in his eyes. “You’re sick.”

“Let’s begin!” he interrupts. “Did the medication put into the soup affect you?” 

Virgil falters. He feels nervous, so much that he’s shaking, not to mention uncomfortable from being trapped on the chair. They wouldn’t really…

There’s a sudden  _ crack  _ and sharp pain floods through his whole hand. He groans, unable to help himself as his hand throbs, and this only seems to make the man laugh even more. 

“Now that I have your attention!” he shouts, way too cheerfully for a man who just broke someone’s finger. “Do you need me to repeat the question?” 

“Fuck you.” Virgil hisses. He immediately regrets it when there’s another sharp sound and his hand  _ aches.  _ “Fine! Fine, give me a chance to get an answer.” 

* * *

When the questions are over, they shove him back into the cell, door swinging shut behind him. He turns, ready to drag himself onto the bed, and meets eyes with Patton. 

“W-what’d they do?” Patton gets out, looking wide-eyed from Virgil’s face to the cotton bandage surrounding his right hand. His fingers peek out of the end of it, and a couple of them look a nasty purple colour. 

“Nothing. I’m fine.” Virgil shakes his head, walking past Patton and sitting - or, collapsing - onto his bed. Patton follows him over, gently taking his hand before he can protest. He winces at the sight of Virgil’s swollen fingers, unable to say anything. 

“I’m going to kill them.” Roman decides. Janus gives him an odd look. 

“Go ahead. I’m sure you’ll get very far.” 

“So you’re going to sit back and let them hurt Virgil like that?” Roman snaps. Janus opens his mouth to respond, but Roman beats him to it. “Of course not. You never did much to help him before, why would you now?” 

Janus closes his mouth, whatever he was going to respond now forgotten. After a moment he gets up and locks himself in the bathroom. Roman stares after him, confused. 

“Did I upset him?” he asks, though he knows what the answer will be. 

Logan frowns. “People don’t go to the bathroom because they’re upset, they go there to-”

“He’ll be okay!” Patton quickly interrupts. “I’ll check on him in a minute.” he goes back to inspecting Virgil’s hand. 

Janus isn’t upset. Definitely not. He wouldn’t let something Roman said get to him this much. He just needs to clear his head, and then he’ll be fine. 

Okay, so maybe he’s a little upset. Who could blame him? 

Janus cares about Virgil. He cares much more than he’d let on. When Virgil was still a dark side the two were closer than anything. But then Virgil left, and Janus was left to play the role of the villain. Still, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to help Virgil! 

Seeing him be shoved into the room like that, obviously injured, was one of the worst things Janus has seen.  _ It hurt.  _ And for Roman to act as though Janus was the one hurting Virgil? 

Still, that’s no reason to hide in the bathroom crying - not that he  _ is  _ crying. He would never do that. 

With a sigh, Janus stands up from the floor, wiping his eyes. He splashes some cold water over his face and turns around, unlocking the door. Stepping forward, he plans on heading to his bed and staring at the wall for a few hours, but something has him stopped in his tracks. 

The man is back, and this time, his gaze is pointed at Janus. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the usual stuff, Janus has a headache and Virgil is scared. Definitely a wholesome fic, of course...
> 
> Sorry it's been over a month since I updated, I do intend to continue this fic and have it all planned out so hopefully updates will be more frequent... 
> 
> Never mind the fact that last time I said that I ended up deleting the fic- 
> 
> Trigger warnings: sedation, mentions of injuries

Janus always imagined he’d be calm in situations such as these. After all, he’s always managed to present himself in a prideful, dignified manner when around the others, not once slipping up. Even just a few hours ago, When Roman’s stupid comment made him get emotional (something that he’s still denying), he hid from the others to recompose himself. He suspects they knew exactly what was going on, but still the effort was there. 

This time, however, it’s different. 

He’s been in the same vast room for who knows how long, staring up at the ceiling and hoping that jerk would just  _ shut up.  _

His head hurts. Rephrasing, it _aches_ , with such an intensity that his eyes are squeezed tightly shut as a feeble attempt to ease the pounding in his skull. He suspects they gave him something again - headaches like this don’t exactly come about naturally - but as for what it might be, he has no clue. There haven’t been any other side effects, at least none that he can notice. So what’s the point in it then? Giving him a headache, perhaps so that it can drive him over the edge and coax him into finally answering their questions? 

He’s trying not to give in, which is why he’s resorted to tightly closed eyes and a steady, rhythmic breathing that’s far too shallow to be considered normal. It’s doing nothing at all to aid the painful waves in his head, which are growing more and more unbearable with each second. Even if he tries, he doubts he’ll be able to focus on a word that the man is saying. For now he’s just stuck in the same cycle of trying to breath and focus on anything other than the migraine plaguing him, and he isn’t sure how much more he can take. 

“Janus?” Another person speaks, in a softer, more gentle tone that’s at least comprehensible to him. “Tell us what’s happening. We’ll listen to you.”

Briefly, the thought registers in his mind that this is probably a trick, or a way of getting more information, but still Janus finds himself speaking. His voice shakes more than it ever has before as he whispers, “hurts,”, pleading for them to just  _ make it stop.  _

“What hurts?” the voice asks, still quiet and patient. He’s scared, but something about the voice sounds trustworthy, and he can’t help but continue. “Head.” 

A few moments later, the lights in the room dim to an acceptable standard, and he manages to open his eyes, relieved when the pain in his head doesn’t increase. It’s still there, but it isn’t getting any worse, and that’s one less thing to worry about. 

“Are you still planning on escaping?” the man asks. A stupid question, really, because if Janus was planning to escape, would he really tell them that? Admittedly, escaping isn’t the first thing on his mind, mainly due to the distracting headache. Maybe that was their plan all along. 

Instead of responding with his usual level of sarcasm, Janus finds himself weakly shaking his head. The man nods, slowly reaching over to free one of Janus’ hands from the restraints trapping him to the table. The side supposes it would be a good choice of action to escape while he can, except that he has no idea where he would go, or even if he could stand up. He just wants to feel better. 

The two people are whispering above him, and he focuses, carefully listening to what they’re saying. 

“...hoping to get answers, but he doesn’t seem to be in the right condition to be questioned…”

“...upped the dosage a little too much-” at this point the man looks to him, easily seeing Janus’ eyes on them both, and shuts up instantly. There’s an odd pause.

“Okay, take him back to the room.” the man dismisses finally, walking over to the other side of the room and noting something down on a clipboard. “We got more than enough from Virgil anyway.”

Janus wants to ask about that, but he doubts they’ll give him any information, and he’s finding it hard to keep his eyes open anyway. Instead of dragging him back to the room, the guards are closer to guiding him, and once he’s inside he doesn’t even make it to the bed before he’s falling onto the floor, his headache getting worse once again. He hates the idea of the others seeing him like this, but he’s completely exhausted. There isn’t any other option. 

“Janus?” Patton asks warily. “What happened?” 

His voice is much too loud, and Janus can only whimper, weakly bringing his hands to cover his ears as his face scrunches in discomfort. He hears Logan whisper something to the others, and Patton's talking to him again, this time with a gentle, caring whisper that he can understand much more easily. 

“Is your head hurting?” 

Janus nods carefully. 

“Okay… Do you want to sleep it off?” 

Janus nods again, curling into a little ball on the floor. He won’t be able to get himself to the bed, that’s for certain. 

“I got this.” Remus whispers - and it’s unnerving, because the only time Janus has heard Remus whisper was when they agreed to prank Roman and were hiding in anticipation. Two strong arms lift him up, slowly and with a level of caution that can’t possibly be Remus’. Janus opens his eyes again, seeing a flash of green - it is Remus after all. 

He’s lifted onto a bed, tucked carefully under the blankets, and then Remus joins him, pulling him close and refusing to let go. Janus decides he doesn’t mind - he’s far too tired to protest anyway. He tries to mutter a thanks, but he doubts it works - his words are slurring together. Maybe now would be a good time to rest… 

* * *

Janus is sleeping for a long time, and Remus does not leave his side. Patton has to bring some food over to him when more arrives, and even then he stays put, carefully balancing his food and not spilling a single trace. Half-heartedly, he listens to Virgil worry about the food and how likely it is that it’s been drugged again. Usually this wouldn’t scare him, but this time he finds himself wary of the meal he’s just eaten - he has to stay conscious, for Janus. 

The food turns out to be safe this time, at least. Remus sits with Janus for another 5 or 6 hours, staring at the wall and getting lost in his thoughts, before Logan manages to coax him into using the bathroom and washing the anxious sweat from himself. He joins Janus again immediately after, resuming his previous position and ignoring the heaviness in his eyes. He can’t sleep; anything could happen to Janus while he’s asleep! But he’s just so exhausted…

“Finally, he's sleeping.” Patton murmurs, a fond look crossing his face as he looks at Remus and Janus, now curled up together and fast asleep. “Didn’t think he would.”

“I have to agree with you, Patton.” Roman nods. “He can be stubborn when he wants to be.”

“Guess that’s a trait you share.” Logan mutters.

Roman glares at him. “Hey!” 

“Okay, well,” Patton interrupts - the others are seconds away from an argument and that really isn’t helpful. “Why don’t we get some rest?” He doesn’t bother adding the ‘while we can’. It’s implied anyways. 

They do rest, albeit reluctantly. Wrapped in his own blanket, Patton lets his eyes wander to the others. Remus and Janus remain intertwined on Janus’ bed, both fast asleep. Virgil seems to be sleeping too, if only for the fact that he hasn’t moved for about 3 hours. Logan and Roman are only just starting to settle down, but hopefully they’ll go to sleep soon. As for Patton… 

He doubts he’ll be able to sleep, at least by choice. Whenever he tries, his mind drifts back to the events of the past few days, and how utterly terrified he is. The cell he was trapped in, the questions, the injections, the numerous injuries the others have returned with - all of it makes him shiver. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen next, but it isn’t surprising that he doesn’t want to find out. If only he could wake up and the whole of this could turn out to be just a terrible nightmare. He wants nothing more than to wake up in his room, to cook breakfast with the others, to see Thomas as he watches more TV shows that he’s already seen… 

Patton misses Thomas. All of them do. To think that they haven’t seen their host in days is… startling. But he sees the others and how afraid they are; the way Virgil curls up under his blanket and won’t talk to the others whenever they’re in the room, the way Logan pauses to take deep breaths whenever something happens, the way Remus protectively holds Janus close and won’t let him go for more than a few minutes… They’re all scared, and Patton isn’t making things any better by sitting here and working himself up over everything. He wants to help - he  _ needs  _ to help, otherwise he’ll drive himself insane with guilt. 

So when Patton wakes up from a restless sleep to discover that Logan is missing, he pushes down his nerves and offers gentle, reassuring words to the others. He knows Logan will return, at least, he hopes he will, but what condition will the Logical side be in when he does? 

* * *

“He’s resisting! Get the restraints!” 

“Do we need to sedate him?” 

“Yes! Just don’t overdo it like with Janus!”

Logan isn’t sure where he is, or what’s happening. He’s aware that they’re talking, though he doesn’t know exactly what they’re saying. In fact he doesn’t really know anything right now. He just knows that he doesn’t want to be in this cold room, with these people that don’t seem to know how to stop talking, and he really,  _ really  _ doesn’t want to be in here. 

So he tries to get away, because that’s what people do when they don’t like the place they’re in, right? He’s cold, he’s tired and achy, and he just wants to be back with the others so that he can curl up on that uncomfortable bed and rest. The others were fast asleep when he was taken, but surely they’ll be awake now? At least Janus will, because he’s been asleep since… since… 

But Logan can’t escape. He fights against the hands pinning him down, until his arm is seized and bound to the edge of the table with a strong, constricting fabric that offers him no movement. His other limbs are tied down before he notices it, and he’s left staring at the ceiling, unable to move. He doesn’t know what to do, but he’s afraid. 

“Logan, take deep breaths.” A voice instructs. Logan doesn’t turn his head to see who it belongs to, he just focuses on his breathing, counting out each breath the way he does for Virgil whenever the Anxious side is having a panic attack. It takes a long time for Logan to get his breathing steady, and even when he does, he feels so light headed that he can barely think clearly anyway. He’s suddenly feeling a lot more tired, similar to when they were all given that soup containing some form of sedative. It’s odd, he didn’t notice the needle going into his skin, but surely it must have. Maybe it happened when he was trying to escape. 

“Good.” the voice speaks up again, most likely referring to Logan’s breathing, which is now under control. “How do you feel?” 

“I don’t.” Logan answers. 

There’s a moment of confused silence before they speak up again. “You... don’t?” 

“I don’t feel anything.” Logan clarifies. More silence follows him, and he hears someone pick up a clipboard again. 

“You were given a smaller dose of the sedative than Janus. This doesn’t make any sense.” 

“I’ve never felt anything.” 

There’s no response after that. If he listens carefully, Logan can hear someone writing something down, but he can’t find the energy to focus. Briefly, he notices his eyes closing, and then he’s asleep. 

* * *

Virgil is surprised to see Logan carried in by the guards instead of just being shoved through the doorway. He watches silently as they set Logan’s unconscious body down on one of the empty beds, ignoring the others completely. 

“Is… he going to wake up?” Patton whispers, as though he isn’t sure whether or not he wants the answer. The guards don’t say a word, but one of them gives him a tiny, reassuring nod. 

Patton spends the rest of the day by Logan’s side, patiently waiting for him to wake up. He talks to the others at the same time, switching between recalling memories with Roman and listening to Virgil talk about conspiracies - he isn’t a huge fan, but Virgil’s trying to add to the conversation, and there’s no way Patton isn’t going to give him a chance. 

Janus wakes up, and the ache in his head has reduced to a dull, manageable pain. He seems surprised to see Remus curled up next to him, but doesn’t try to escape, instead letting himself be used as a pillow. Roman gives him his food somewhat awkwardly - it probably would have tasted better if he’d eaten it when it arrived, like the others, but he’s hungry and would take anything at this point. 

For the first time in a few days, there’s a slight moment of peace. Patton naps as he waits for Logan to wake up, while Virgil and Roman switch between talking and arguing. And though he’s still terrified about what’s going to happen next, or what might have already happened, Virgil lets himself be calm for just a moment. This peacefulness may be short-lived, but he’s willing to hold onto it for however long it lasts. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhh, this chapter got darker than it was supposed to. I had to update the tags sooo yeah we're vibing with a lot of angst right now. I feel like I need to specify that it will get better after this-
> 
> Trigger warnings: Mentions of sickness, being restrained, Remus being Remus (basically a lot of intrusive thoughts), throwing up, broken bones, injections, sedation, and a LOT of (temporary) character death. 
> 
> I'm apologising in advance for the angst. PLEASE take note of the warnings because I don't want to trigger anyone.

Spoilers: it doesn’t get better. 

Patton’s been curled up next to Logan for the whole of the night, holding him close in a protective sort of way, and though the side is definitely breathing steadily, he remains unconscious, not making a single movement for the whole night. Patton checks his temperature, finding it to be unusually high, and can’t decide whether that’s surprising or not. 

Usually, when one of the others gets sick, Patton and Logan work as a team to nurse them back to health. Logan does all of the stuff like keeping their temperature down and providing medicine, whereas Patton handles their mood, usually by providing movies and cuddles (no matter how much Logan warns him that they’re probably infectious). 

Logan rarely gets sick, but he clearly is now, and without his information, Patton’s at a loss for what to do. He cuddles Logan close, rocking the side back and forth gently until one of the others wakes up. 

It feels like forever before Janus sits up, a tired yawn escaping him as he looks around. The second he does so, Patton’s speaking up. 

“Hey, um, Janus?” he calls quietly. Logan doesn’t stir, and it’s concerning. “I think something’s wrong with Logan.”

Janus gets up, carefully untangling himself from Remus, who whimpers and curls into a lonely ball under the blanket. He walks over to Patton and Logan, a concerned frown on his face when he feels the heat radiating from the logical side’s face. 

“He’s definitely got a fever.” Janus acknowledges. “Has he woken up at all during the night?”

“Nope.”

“Has he  _ moved _ ?” 

“Not a bit.” 

Janus’ concern is growing more and more evident, and Patton doesn’t want to admit that’s unnerving. After a moment of silence, Janus sighs. “Well, the first step would be to try and get his fever down. Find something to soak in cold water and put it over his forehead.” 

Patton quickly slides out from his position cuddling Logan, pausing for a second before taking off the cardigan wrapped around his shoulders. He holds it under the faucet in the sink until it’s nice and cool, and wrings it out, bringing it back into the other room and gently draping it over Logan’s forehead. Logan doesn’t so much as twitch, and Patton can’t help but feel disappointed. 

“Make sure it stays cold.” Janus speaks up, now having resorted to straightening the bed sheets as a way of curing his boredom. “He might not wake up straight away, but it’ll help him.” 

Admittedly, this isn’t a very reassuring answer, but Patton takes it anyway. He remains sitting next to Logan, checking his temperature every so often and getting up to re-soak the cardigan. The others wake up one by one, giving a couple of questioning looks, but Patton reassures them, the way he always does, and leaves it at that. Logan doesn’t stir. 

That same familiar dread fills him when the door opens once again - he was stupid to hope that they would leave them alone. He stays silent, pulling Logan a little closer to him as he watches the man carefully. 

“Remus?” The man asks, though it’s more of a command than a question. 

Remus yawns. “What if I don’t want to?” 

“Well, I’d rather not go through all of that again, but I can.” he glances over to Logan, and Patton grips him tighter, glaring at the man, who simply chuckles. “Calm down, Patton. He’s already had his turn.” 

“Leave him alone.” Janus hisses. 

The man laughs again, shrugging. “Alright. Remus, come on.” 

Remus stands up, following after the man with an unusual lack of enthusiasm. The door slams behind them. 

“Think he’ll be okay?” Roman whispers after a moment. 

“I’m not sure.” Is Janus’ response. 

* * *

Remus really isn’t going to make it easy for them, he knows that for certain. 

“Sit down.” the man mutters as he takes his own position opposite Remus’ chair. Remus stays standing still in place, grinning.

“Remus, sit down.” The man repeats. He doesn’t move. And after a moment the man snaps his fingers, and the two guards force Remus into the seat. The side grins, leaning forward and biting one of them. It doesn’t do much, but the guy’s face screws up in disgust, and Remus cackles with laughter. 

“I don’t want to have you restrained, but I will.” 

“Go ahead!” Remus grins, far too cheerfully. 

The man gives him an odd look. “Okay. I’m going to ask you a question, Remus. Are you and the others clones of Thomas Sanders?” 

Remus shakes his head. “Wouldn’t that be fun though? I wonder how cloning works; do they split your brain apart?” 

“See, that’s exactly what you said before. But we took blood. You remember that, right?” 

Remus nods enthusiastically; he  _ definitely  _ remembers that. 

“Well, your DNA completely matches Thomas’. You know what that means, right?” 

“We’re the same person.” Remus shrugs. “Tried telling you.” 

“So you admit that you’re clones?” 

“Not clones. We are Thomas.” 

“Well now you aren’t making any sense.” 

“Not my fault you’re so dumb!” Remus sings, still grinning. 

The man sneers at him, and the guards step closer. “Okay, you’re leaving me no choice. Either you answer the questions, clearly, or your fingers will break. One by one.” 

“Like you did to Virgil?” Remus questions. “Go ahead. Broken bones are pretty!” he’s met with another sneer, and shrugs. “You have to agree with me. You broke Virgil’s.” 

There’s an odd crack, and Remus’ hand sears with pain. He laughs, looking down at his finger, which is bent at an unnatural position. A crazed grin creeps onto his face. “Do it again!” 

Instead of feeling another bone break, there’s an odd silence, and when Remus looks up, he notices the man walking towards the table in the corner of the room. After a moment, he turns around again, a filled needle securely in his grip. Remus only seems more excited.

“Ooh, you’re going to poison me instead? How exciting!” 

The man doesn’t give him a response, instead sticking the needle into Remus’ arm. “Now, let’s continue, shall we?” 

It takes around 4 hours for Remus to become tired. He’s exhausted both that idiot and his guards, but they’re not giving up. By now he’s been strapped to the table, stuck looking up at the tiles on the ceiling as the man asks question after question. He doesn’t give a single answer, either avoiding the question or just starting a random conversation that has nothing to do with it. He’s tired, and whatever they shot into his arm earlier is making him feel a bit odd, but he isn’t giving up. He’ll drive them over the edge eventually, and they’ll shove him back into the room where he can tell the others exactly how to beat them. No amount of broken bones or dodgy infections are going to interrupt that. 

Another 7 questions go unanswered before Remus really starts to feel the effects of the injection. He’s more than tired, but now his head is beginning to ache, and the room is spinning like a turntable. Nausea bubbles in his throat, and he urges it to stay.

“Are you going to answer the question?” The man asks, standing up from his chair. He paces around a little before coming to a stop just beside Remus. Said side continues to stare at the ceiling, humming to himself. He wants to say something odd, if only for the way the man grimaces whenever he does, but he’s really getting tired and the nausea is becoming a distraction. Tiredly, he lets his head fall to the side, eyes slipping shut. 

Suddenly, there’s a hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake again. “Don’t go to sleep.” 

Remus jerks awake again, nausea overwhelming him, and turns so that he’s facing the man. He opens his mouth to speak, and instead throws up, easily hitting the man who’s still standing there. He takes a step back, beyond disgusted, and Remus takes this as a victory. He throws up once more and closes his eyes, unable to fight his exhaustion any longer as he slips unconscious. 

* * *

Logan’s fever doesn’t break - if anything it gets worse. Patton keeps swapping the wet fabric on his forehead every so often, checking his temperature each time and sighing when he realises it hasn’t improved. He needs medicine, but whether or not he’ll get it is debatable. He decides he’ll ask one of the guards when they bring Remus back. 

But when Remus returns, he’s simply slung into the room and left there, clearly unconscious. Janus takes a tentative step towards him, fear evident on his face. 

“Is he… okay?” Virgil asks. 

“He’s breathing.” Janus responds, gently shaking Remus. He doesn’t wake up. 

“Does he have a fever?” Patton asks, a feeling of dread building inside of him. 

“Nope.” Janus pauses. “I think he threw up a few times though.” He lifts Remus, carrying him over to one of the beds and setting him inside. He doesn’t leave after that, standing warily beside the bed for a few moments before sitting down beside him. Patton can’t help but notice how Remus did the exact same thing for Janus just the day before. 

They remain in silence for a while after that, all eyes on Logan and Remus, who both remain unconscious on the beds. That is until Roman stands up to get some water and falls flat onto the floor. 

Virgil’s on his feet in an instant, racing over to where Roman now lies on the ground. He pauses, not sure what to do. 

“Why did he pass out?” he asks Patton instead. “They didn’t give him anything.” 

“I’m not sure…” Is Patton’s response. Carefully, the moral side climbs off from the bed he’s sharing with Logan, trying not to wake the side - not that he could if he tried anyway. He pauses near Roman, checking his temperature, and frowns. “He has a fever too.” 

The two lift Roman back onto the bed, concern never leaving their faces. After a moment of consideration, Virgil tears the corner off of one of the blankets, soaking it in cold water and pressing it to Roman’s forehead. 

“Do you think he’ll wake up?” he asks. 

Patton stays quiet, looking between Logan, Roman and Remus with a doubtful expression. “I… hope so.” 

“I don’t think they’d kill us yet.” Janus speaks up from the other side of the room. “They haven’t got all the information they need.”

“They’ll be okay.” Patton decides, although he sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself than anything. Janus nods in agreement. 

“Of course. They’ll be fine.” It’s almost obvious he doesn’t believe what he’s saying. 

No one says anything for a while afterwards. Patton goes back to Logan’s side, glancing around at the others every now and then. Virgil keeps his eyes on Roman, checking his temperature every few moments and biting back his stress when he realises it’s not getting any better. Janus stays beside Remus, trying to ignore how heavy his eyelids are becoming. He can’t join the others - Patton and Virgil will struggle by themselves. He has to stay awake… 

“Well…” Virgil sighs, gesturing over to Janus, who is now slumped against the wall, eyes shut. “We’re down to two.” 

Patton stares at him for a moment, unable to hide his fear. He can’t come up with anything to say. 

“I don’t want us to die…” he mutters shakily after a while. 

Virgil sighs. “Neither do I. Looks like we don’t have much choice in the matter.”

“Do you believe what Janus said?” Patton meets Virgil’s eyes. “They won’t kill us yet?” 

“I hope they won’t…” he looks down. “We’ll just have to find out…” 

They stay talking after that, bringing up the first thing that pops into their heads, because neither of them can stand the silence. When Virgil catches Patton yawning, clearly fighting off his fatigue, he hides how afraid he is, instead standing up and walking over to the bed Patton’s laying on. 

“It’s okay.” He mutters, cursing his voice for being so shaky. “You can rest. It’ll be fine.” 

Patton doesn’t seem to agree, considering how hard he’s fighting to stay awake. “ ‘m sorry. Don’t want to…” 

“I know.” Virgil wraps him in a hug. He tucks the blanket over Patton, wrapping him up as best as he can, and though he lets go of the hug and climbs off the bed, he doesn’t let go of the moral side’s hand. 

It only takes a few moments before Patton closes his eyes, facial expression going completely blank. Not entirely sure if he wants the answer, Virgil checks to see if Patton is breathing, and can only sigh when he realises that he isn’t. A quick check of the others proves the same result. 

What does he do now? He supposes people usually cry when someone they care about dies, but he can’t seem to. He feels numb. 

Surely they aren’t going to be cruel enough to leave him alive, right? They wouldn’t just… But he doesn’t feel tired. His eyes remain wide open as he stares at the others, wishing this is just some kind of cruel dream and he’ll wake up in a moment. 

No matter how long he stands there, the others remain unmoving on the beds. They look almost peaceful, the way Janus and Remus are still curled up together, the way Patton’s lying close to Logan, and the unusual stillness in Roman. If he didn’t know they were dead, he would think they were just relaxing. 

There’s nothing else for Virgil to do now. He makes his way back to his empty bed, laying down and burying himself under the blanket, and waits. It’s hours before he even begins to feel tired, and those few hours are the worst torture Virgil has ever experienced. He finds it surprisingly comforting when the familiar exhaustion creeps up on him. It isn’t unlike the tiredness he’d feel after a long day, and he hopes this is exactly how the others experienced it too. At least then they wouldn’t have felt any pain. 

* * *

A room, almost devoid of furniture. 4 identical screens, each with their own person behind them. Eyes never leaving the monitor, for fear of missing an important detail. The same panicked expressions as the watchers realise what they’re seeing.

Not a moment too soon, the door swings open, and footsteps trail their way over to the other people. An authoritative voice rings out, “What happened?” 

“They’re dead. Every one of them.” 

“Impossible.” The man leans closer to the screen, scanning the room presented in front of him. “How?” 

“Logan and Remus never woke up after being sedated. The others slowly became unconscious shortly afterwards.” 

Another presence joins just a second later, peering at the screen with wide eyes. “It’s almost as though their source of energy was…” words trail off, and everyone looks up as they make the same realisation.

“Sir?” one of them timidly speaks up. “I believe we need to wake up Thomas Sanders.” 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't like how this chapter turned out but eh  
> Noticed that we got over 1000 hits so thank you to everyone who's actually reading this-  
> I don't post much but my tumblr is spicy-icicle if you wanna scream at me about this fic or just tell me how your day is going :) 
> 
> warnings - a lot of mentions of comas, some food mentions, needles/blood taking, a couple of mentions of death
> 
> let me know if I missed anything!

He awakens in an eerily silent room, unusually bright compared to where he usually sleeps, and throws a hand over his face to shield himself from the intruding light. It’s much colder than his room too. Confusion seeps over his mind, and he opens his eyes, scanning the area. Where  _ is  _ he?

Warily, he stretches his arm out, not entirely sure what he wants to happen. No sooner than he does so, an alarm begins blaring, and he draws his arm back in again, reaching up to cover his ears. He has no clue where he is, and he’s so tired… It doesn’t feel safe to sleep here, though, so he sits up, forcing his eyes open and looking around the room. 

His observations are cut short when the door opposite his bed opens, and a tall, intimidating-looking man steps inside. 

“Hello, Thomas.” He starts gently. Thomas stares at him, eyes wide. 

“...who are you?” 

“That’ll be explained later, I’m sure.” the man waves his hand dismissively. “How do you feel?” 

“Umm…” Thomas pauses, thinking it over. “Tired, I guess? Like I haven’t slept in a week.” 

The man laughs. “That’s to be expected.”

“It...Is…?” 

“Definitely. Now, we’re going to need to do a few tests, if that’s alright? They’re harmless….” The man doesn’t even wait for Thomas to answer before he’s calling others into the room, none of which Thomas recognises. He watches warily as 4 of them stand at the end of the bed and one, a woman in a long, white coat, steps closer. 

“Hello, Thomas.” she greets softly. “You’ve been asleep for quite a while.” 

_ A...coma? How...:?  _

Thomas doesn’t reply - he’s too confused to even attempt a response. He stares blankly at the woman, half expecting Logan to pop up and explain the situation. Where  _ are  _ his sides? 

“I understand it’s a lot to take in.” The woman sits herself on the edge of the bed, and Thomas backs away on impulse, eyes darting towards the door as he tries to work out whether or not he can escape. Probably not. 

The other people seem to realise his train of thought, because a few of them step in front of the door, fixing Thomas with a disapproving glare. He looks away, gazing at the floor. The woman reaches over to a table that he hadn’t even noticed, and picks up a needle, turning back to Thomas with a cautious look. 

“We’re going to need to take some of your blood to check your physical state.” She explains. Thomas looks at the needle, a little nervous. “It’s completely safe, I promise you.” She reaches out, gently taking Thomas’s arm. He doesn’t pull away - he’s pretty certain if he did, those other people staring at him from the end of the bed would force him to comply. 

Instead he looks away as he feels the needle pierce his skin, eyes squeezed shut. After what feels like forever, the odd feeling in his arm subsides, and he turns hesitantly to see the woman place the needle onto a tray and hand it to one of the others, who then leaves with it. 

“Are you feeling faint at all?” she continues. 

Thomas pauses. “A little…” Barely a second after he’s finished talking, a glass of water is handed to him. He sips it, taking a moment to glance around the room. This doesn’t look like a hospital…

“Where am I?” He questions. The woman looks almost uncomfortable. 

“We can’t tell you yet.” She responds eventually. “But I promise you, nothing bad is going to happen to you.” 

Thomas isn’t satisfied with the answer, but he has a feeling he isn’t going to get anything better than that. He continues drinking the water until it’s finished, watching as the others exchange a look and then step outside. They begin talking in hushed voices, and he strains to hear what they’re saying - eavesdropping is bad, but he can’t help it. He  _ needs  _ to know something. 

“... a lot calmer than the others…” 

“...human… unlike…” 

“...clones…” 

“....still unconscious…”

Thomas blinks, feeling more confused than he was before. Others? Clones? What is any of this supposed to mean? 

The door swings open again, though this time only the woman comes inside. “Okay, Thomas. We’re going to see if you can walk. Do you feel ready?” 

Thomas nods wordlessly, slowly swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He pauses, feeling his head spin a little, but when nothing else happens he lifts himself carefully onto his feet, holding onto the edge of the bed for support. 

“Take it slowly, now.” The woman warns, but Thomas completely ignores her, carefully taking a step forward, then another, then letting go of the edge of the bed and moving forward. 

“Impressive,” the woman nods, writing something down on a clipboard. “Okay, why don’t you sit back down for now?” 

Thomas doesn’t sit, instead taking a few more steps and pausing to catch his breath. 

“I know you’re eager to be walking again, but for now you need to rest.” she instructs. Thomas sighs, but does sit back down, staring towards the door longingly as though he wants to be out there. He does; he wants to be out of this confusing room with these people who won’t tell him anything and out in the real world where things will surely start to make more sense. They have to, right? 

“Why don’t you get some more sleep?” He can’t argue with that; he’s exhausted, even more so after walking. So he lets his eyes slip shut again, falling back into a restless sleep. 

* * *

Logan tries to open his eyes. 

Keyword being tries. He’s so weighed down with a complete lack of energy that doing something as simple as opening his eyes appears to be a difficult task. 

When he eventually manages to get his eyes open, he finds his vision is blurry and unhelpful. Where are his glasses? He reaches an arm out to find them, and is vaguely surprised when his arm sears with pain. His eyes hurt too, in fact the whole of him does. Why does everything hurt so much? 

With his vision clearing just a little, he glances around, spotting his glasses among other things, and slips them on to survey the room. Patton is asleep beside him, his breathing quick and irregular as though he’s only just gotten his breath back. The others are all fast asleep too, which in itself is odd. The others are never asleep at the same time, there’s always Virgil awake worrying about something, or Remus muttering as he scribbles his ideas into a notebook, or Janus carefully turning the pages of a book. It’s never completely silent, and Logan finds it unnerving. 

But the others seem okay. They were fine last time he checked… When  _ was  _ the last time he checked? The last thing he remembers was going into that room to be questioned, and fighting against them, and then…

_ What if they did the same thing to the others as they did to him?  _

‘Now isn’t the time to be worrying about things you can’t change.’ Logan thinks to himself as he stands up, forced to grip the edge of the bed as his vision sways dangerously. A good few moments pass before the dots in front of his eyes fade away, and as soon as they do he heads for the bathroom sink, gulping down a copious amount of water. When he stands up again, the room is a lot less blurry. 

The water certainly helps to clear his head, though he still can’t figure out what’s going on. He has no idea how long they’ve all been asleep, though judging by the hunger tearing at his stomach it was probably quite a long time. Something else has changed too: Thomas is… 

Well, he’s something. Logan isn’t sure what’s causing it, but he notices a connection to their host once again. Whether Thomas is nearby, or simply thinking of the sides, something has changed. Logan dares to feel optimistic about it. 

With everyone still fast asleep, he finds himself almost… bored. It’s not as though there’s anything in the room to occupy him. He sits down on the bed once again, so deep in thought he barely notices when Patton begins to stir. 

“Lo...gan?” He murmurs, opening his eyes slowly. “You’re… awake…” 

“Yes.” Logan responds simply. “I am awake.” 

Patton sits up, eyes widening as a tiny grin forms on his face. “I thought you were dead.”

Logan blinks. “You thought… what?” 

“You weren’t breathing. I thought they killed you…” Patton slows. “I thought they killed me too…” 

Logan is beyond confused. “What did they do?”

“They…” Patton stops to think. “I don’t know. You came back unconscious and then so did Remus and then we all started falling asleep, and then Virgil noticed you weren’t breathing and the others were dead, and-” 

“Patton, slow down.” Logan interrupts. Patton looks at Logan, eyes wide as he struggles to catch his breath. He clings to Logan, tears beginning to bead in his eyes. 

“I don’t want us to die.” he whispers, face now buried in Logan’s shoulder. 

It almost hurts Logan to see Patton like this. He knows that Patton isn’t happy all of the time, and they’ve already worked through that. But this is different. Patton’s crying and shaking, and Logan can’t stand it. He has to do something; he has to help Patton. 

“We won’t.” He lies. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.” He pulls Patton closer, starting to rock back and forth the way he’s seen Patton do with the others. 

Janus starts to stir, but he’s too exhausted to call Logan out on his dishonesty. It’s a full minute before he can fully open his eyes, and when he does he simply stares at the ceiling, trying to figure out what’s going on. By this point Patton’s finally starting to calm down. Logan decides he understands why Janus lies so often now.

The others begin to wake up one by one over the next few hours. Since Logan is the most awake (Even if he’s still yawning every few minutes) he brings water to the others. 

“Something’s happening with Thomas.” Virgil comments when Logan brings him some water. “There’s something… Different.” 

“I know. I noticed it too.” Logan comments. He pauses, before adding, “I’m not sure what yet though.” 

“I… I think it’s good.” Virgil mutters. “Before, I couldn’t feel anything. But now…”

“Let’s hope so.” is Logan’s response. 

After a few hours, food is bought. Janus doesn’t trust it at all, opting for poking the slices of bread on his plate ith a skeptical expression. 

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” Remus asks through a mouthful of bread. 

Janus shakes his head. “I’d rather starve than be poisoned again.” 

“It’s not poisonous.” Logan adds. “There’s no way they could add any unnoticeable substance without baking it into the bread, and the bread is from a store.” 

There’s a beat of silence as no one knows what to say. “Still don’t trust it.” Janus mutters eventually, pushing his plate back to the middle. 

Logan sighs at him. “You need to eat. We’ve all been unconscious for an unknown amount of time.”

“No.” Janus stands up. “You can all fall for their tricks again if you want to. I don’t.” He sits down on one of the beds, facing away from the others. 

Patton sighs. “I’ll leave it on the tray unless you want it.” 

* * *

It’s hours later when the door opens again, and everyone looks over at it, not quite knowing what to expect. That’s when a familiar figure walks in, escorted by the guards again. He looks a little pale and shivery, but there isn’t a single injury visible on him - he’s completely unscathed. Every one of the sides stand up the second he walks in, unsure of whether it’s from impulse or not. 

He stands there, eyes wide as he glances around at the figures surrounding him. A full minute passes before he mutters, “I was wondering where you guys had gotten to…” 

Then Patton’s rushing forward, tackling him into a hug so quickly they both topple to the floor. Barely a moment later, Roman and Remus join them. The other three don’t join, but they each gain a smile as they observe the situation in front of them. 

“We didn’t know where you were,” Patton mumbles, still buried amongst the others. “It’s been so long.” 

“Well… I’m here now, I guess.” Thomas replies, glancing up to Logan. “...Where are we?” 

An eerie silence follows, and the sides glance around nervously. 

“...Guys?” Thomas asks, this time a lot quieter. “What’s happening?” 

It’s Janus who eventually sighs, turning to his host. “We have a lot to tell you.” 

* * *

They don’t even have the decency to add an extra bed, so Patton sleeps on the floor that night. Well, he sleeps on the floor for half an hour before Logan drags him to his bed “For health reasons” (Anyone could see how sympathetic Logan felt seeing Patton shivering on the ground, but Janus lets him fool himself anyways). Janus finds himself wide awake again despite how tired he is. His eyes drift to the now empty plate sitting near the door - even after it became clear that the bread was safe he couldn’t bring himself to eat it, so Thomas did. He’s bitterly regretting his decision now; though there’s no way he’s letting the others know that. He isn’t hungry at all. Why would he be? 

“You’re still awake, aren’t you?” Virgil calls, head tilted in Janus’ direction. 

Janus rolls his eyes. “Like I said before, you’re imagining things.” 

“First not eating and now you’re not sleeping.” Virgil sits up. “Have you given up?” 

“Since when were you so focused on self-care?” Janus fires back. Virgil rolls his eyes but doesn’t respond, standing up and going into the bathroom. He splashes cold water over his face, hoping that it will shut up his mind for a while, even though he knows it won’t. It never does. 

When he’s done he stands in the doorway, glancing at the others. Janus is asleep now, or at least feigning sleep. Remus is tangled amongst his blankets sleepily, oddly silent. Roman’s in a similar situation, wrapped up in a way that can’t be comfortable. Logan and Patton remain curled up together but even they don’t look happy with the position they’re in. And Thomas is laying completely still, almost lonely. On top of that, there’s the unusually guarded expressions on everyone’s faces. Virgil’s used to being the cautious one, and seeing the others the same feels completely wrong. He hates it. 

They need to escape. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a while since I updated and I'm sorry about that :(  
> Also about 90% of this chapter was written in one sitting so don't expect to much - there will be typos and it'll probably be bad but oh well-
> 
> Warnings: Emotional abuse, being restrained, being trapped in a room, some mentions of murder

Logan is stressed. This is evident due to the cautious expression on his face, coupled with the fact that his hands are shaking as they reach upwards, fingers threading through his hair and becoming intertwined with the tangled, messy locks. His distress is most likely visible to any of the others who happen to be awake (which is everyone except for the twins). It must look so unprofessional, so emotional, so  _ not him  _ but he can’t bring himself to stop. He can feel the stress too; a great, pounding weight of unease in the pit of his stomach, and he hates it. He doesn’t know how to make it stop. 

“Logan?” 

They have to get out. Nothing good will come from them staying here; he can think of a hundred scenarios and not nearly enough of them are good. There has to be a way out, surely. Maybe he just isn’t thinking hard enough. He grips his hair tighter, breath catching in his throat as he searches his brain for another solution. Nothing. 

“Logan.” A steady pair of hands reach out, gripping his wrists and gently lowering them from his head. Another rests precariously on his shoulder, and he hears the voice, more clearly this time. “It’s okay. Take a deep breath.” 

He listens, sucking in a handful of air as though it’s the last one he’ll ever get. Looking up, he discovers the voice belongs to Janus, who is looking down at him with a hint of concern on his face. Patton stands next to him, hands still gripping Logan’s. He let himself relax. 

“Want some water?” Patton offers. Logan nods, and the moral side turns to get some. 

“We have to escape.” Logan whispers in a hushed voice. Janus nods. 

“I think I know how.” He replies. 

When Patton comes back, Logan and Janus are in the middle of a hushed conversation. Patton frowns, but doesn’t persist, instead setting the water down and sitting on his bed. He watches them carefully, waiting for an explanation, but nothing comes his way. Oh well; they must have their reasons for keeping secrets, right? 

Though, with how everything has been going recently, Patton’s a little tired of secrets.

* * *

Remus has barely been awake half a minute when he’s forced out of bed and dragged out of the room yet again. This time, he’s  _ angry.  _ The one time he’s actually getting some sleep for once and they’re fucking it up. Could they not have just waited a while, or chosen someone else to take?

That’s a selfish thing to think, he registers. He’s seen the look on Patton’s face whenever one of the others gets taken away, as if the side can’t bear the fact that he isn’t the one suffering in their place. A slight speck of guilt resonates with him before Remus forces it away. He doesn’t have to be nice to the others. That’s not his thing. 

He most certainly doesn’t have to be nice to stupid government people who are asking dumb questions. 

“I don’t suppose it’s worth asking you to tell me the truth, is it?” The man sighs.

Remus looks at him, hair covering the majority of his face. His hands are tied to the chair once again, and he can’t get it off. “Can’t even see you.” 

With a frustrated sigh the man glances at the table, searching among the objects before he reaches out and pins back Remus’ hair with a rust covered hair slide. “There. Now you have no excuse.” 

Remus watches him for a moment, thoughtful expression, before he screeches at the top of his lungs. Instead of even flinching, the man just gives him an uninterested expression and waits for Remus to shut up. When the side finally does so he smirks. 

“You do realise those childish impulses aren’t going to get you anywhere, right?”

Remus shrugs boredly - he’s heard that so many times before. 

“Do the others not get tired of you being so… irritating?” 

This time he can’t help but look up, rage starting to simmer in the pit of his stomach. “You don’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about.” 

“Oh come on, anyone could see how frustrated they get when you talk. I bet they wish you weren’t there most of the time.” The man stands, a smirk on his face. “To be fair, I’m not sure I’d blame them.” 

“I could kill you.” Remus murmurs, a crazed smile creeping onto his face. “I could kill everyone in this room, right now. Did you know that?” 

He’s met with a pitying look. “I don’t think you could. You couldn’t really hurt anyone, could you?” 

“How would you know that?” Remus tries to stand too, but he’s pulled back into his seat by the restraints, and gives them a glare.

“Anyone could see it. You’re just full of empty threats, aren’t you? It doesn’t matter what you say, as long as it gets you just a flicker of attention.” 

Remus doesn’t respond, eyes drifting to the floor as he thinks over what has just been said. 

The man continues. “I’ll bet one day the others will be sick of giving it to you.” 

Remus screams then. He thrashes against the steady hands of the guards, spitting threat after threat at everyone in the room. The man sits before him with a smirk, watching as the side slowly becomes more and more disturbed by the words. Remus only stops when his voice is too hoarse to be understood, and then he glares at the floor, willing tears to fill his eyes. This will be easier if the man thinks he’s upset.

“Are you finished with your little tantrum?” he’s asked eventually. He looks up at the man and spits in his face. The only reaction he gets is a disinterested hum, and the man stands up, turning to the guards. With his head turned away, he completely misses the concentrated glint in Remus’ eye. 

“Take him back to the rest of them. He clearly knows nothing.” he orders, turning back to Remus, whose expression turns back to a miserable, hopeless disguise. 

Surprisingly, Remus doesn’t struggle at all when being led back to the room. He walks so quietly that it’s almost suspicious, and his eyes dart around, staring at everything around him and taking it in.

Just before they get back to the room, Remus suddenly jerks out of the guards’ grip and bolts down a corridor, a crazed laugh escaping him as he follows signs and almost,  _ almost  _ ends up outside. He’s so close he can see a fire exit door, when a strong pair of hands grab him and pin him to the floor. There’s shouting, and someone’s stepping on his hand so heavily he’s sure it’s going to break, but he’s still laughing. What they see as a failed escape means something completely different to Remus. Now he knows the way out. 

* * *

The others look up when the door opens again, expecting Remus to return. He doesn’t; in fact there’s no trace of the side. Instead a stern security guard stands in the doorway. “You all need to come with me right now.” 

Patton and Thomas are the first to follow, too afraid to find out what will happen if they don’t. The others follow a few moments later. 

The room they’re put in is only just across the corridor. It’s less than half the size and nowhere near as bright, only lit by a dim yellow lightbulb in the centre of the ceiling. There’s no beds or blankets or anything, only a small tap sticking out from the wall on one side and a weak security camera with a dusty red blinking light in the corner of the room . Roman stands in front of the doorway, looking hesitantly, but he's shoved in harshly by the guard and the others quickly follow suit. The door slams behind them, and there’s a tell-tale click as it locks. 

Remus is inside the room too. He sits in the corner furthest away from the security camera, rocking back and forth as he stares at the floor. When the room is completely silent, the others can just about make out what he’s whispering to himself: “Left, then right, then the third door.” The same words, over and over again as he rocks back and forth in a familiar pattern. 

“What?” Janus asks, but Remus only gets louder, his whispers more panicked. He has to remember it, he needs to know the way out so that he can help the others. He should tell them too, but he can’t stop whispering for even a second. He can’t forget, or they’ll never have a chance to escape and they  _ need  _ this. He continues rocking, whispering, just to make sure. 

Logan is the first to figure out what Remus means, and when he does it takes everything he has not to blurt out the answer. He remembers the security camera glaring down at them from the corner and lets the words die on his tongue. Instead, he turns to Remus reassuringly. “I understand you, Remus.” 

The side looks so grateful to hear this, and he looks up, meeting eyes with Logan. His whispering doesn’t cease. “Left, then right, then the third door. Left, right, third.” 

Logan nods. “It’s okay. I’ll remember for you. You can rest for now if you’d like to.” 

Remus shakes his head, still whispering. He has to remember. He has to…

Janus keeps glancing back and forth from Remus to the door and then back to Remus again. Eventually his eyes widen in realisation and he sets his focus on the door, eyes pointed at the lock just under the handle. It’s a key lock, and Janus is sure that’s the dumbest mistake those stupid government people have ever made. 

* * *

The next few hours are tense. Patton and Roman hum a song together at one point, which is somehow soothing to the others. Thomas manages to fall asleep, head resting against Virgil’s shoulder. The anxious side has been switching between staring at Remus, Janus, and the wall the whole time, a suspicious expression on his face. He knows he can trust them - in a situation like this they have bigger things to think about rather than just trying to get revenge on him for something, but still they know something he doesn’t, and he hates it. 

Logan knows exactly what’s happening, and he’s trying not to blurt out any suggestions or things he thinks of. Somehow it’s easier said than done. Nonetheless he starts to feel a little hopeful - there are so many risks to this and they’ll likely all be killed if it fails, but this is so much better than doing nothing at all. He checks over the idea in his head over and over again, hoping that the others are thinking the same as he is. 

No one comes to give them food that night, in fact the door doesn’t open at all. They drink an unnatural amount of water from the tap, but it’s metallic and tastes odd. Besides, water can only stave off hunger for so long. 

“It’s freezing.” Roman whimpers eventually. “I’m sure the other room wasn’t as cold as this.” 

Logan glares, about to say something, but Patton beats him to it with much more reassuring words. “You’ll get used to it.” He snuggles closer to Roman, wrapping his arms around the fanciful side to provide extra warmth. Logan frowns; that’s not what he was planning on saying to Roman at all. He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, there’s a soft poke on his arm and he turns to see Janus staring at him intently. Janus looks clearly at Remus, then the door, and gives a distinct nod. 

“Virgil, wake Thomas up.” Logan instructs. 

“Why? He’s resting.” Virgil frowns. 

“Just do it.” Janus responds, his tone matching Logan’s. Virgil narrows his eyes at both of them. 

“But wh-”

“Thomas, wake up.” Logan stands up, and with how tiny and cramped the room is he hits his back on the security camera. He doesn’t move from that position, blocking the lens of the camera. What happens next is a blur; Janus snatches the hair slide from Remus’ hair and bends it, shoving it into the lock of the door and twisting it in a certain fashion. The others quickly realise what he’s doing and stand, watching silently with the same hopeful eyes. 

Time seems to slow to a stop completely as they wait. Logan holds his breath, half expecting some guard to come and scream at them about what they’re doing, but there’s nothing. It’s the middle of the night; there’s clearly no one watching. Logan begins to wonder whether there was anyone in the first place. 

Janus opens the door silently and turns back to the others. The second he does so Remus mutters an urgent “Follow me” and jolts forward, sprinting down the corridors. A few seconds later they’re all out of that cramped room and following Remus down a twisted maze of corridors. It looks far too random to lead them anywhere, but Remus seems to know where he’s going and considering he’s spent the whole day whispering directions to himself, Janus is willing to believe that he does. 

Logan is terrified. Their footsteps are much too loud and they’re running past so many different rooms, someone’s bound to catch them any second now, and they'll be killed, or tortured, or worse. He doesn’t let himself overthink it though, instead following and listening to his own heartbeat as the sound of it pounds in his ears. 

Remus is starting to slow now, his breaths coming out in urgent gasps, but he doesn’t stop running, fuelled by determination. At long last he spots the familiar door and charges for it, pushing it open and landing outside on the cold gravel. Seconds later he hears the others land near to him, each of them struggling for air as they fall to the ground. He looks around, full of fear and adrenaline and a hint of excitement, and stands up again. 

“Let’s get out of here.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhhng this was interesting to write-  
> feel free to comment or just leave kudos it makes me experience the smile thing-

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to let me know if I made any typos, or forgot a warning, or anything like that. I appreciate comments and/or kudos :)


End file.
